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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27919618">Together</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mobile_mom/pseuds/mobile_mom'>mobile_mom</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Peaky Blinders (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aging, Angst, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Gardens &amp; Gardening, Growing Old Together, Insecurities, M/M, Physical Pain, Post-Season/Series 05, Walks On The Beach, abandoning family, age -typical physical restrictions, allusion to true historical events, and even a cat, caring about and for each other, heavy decisions, they have a dog</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:00:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,001</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27919618</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mobile_mom/pseuds/mobile_mom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In all those years, decades, Alfie had always imagined what it would be like if they met again.</p>
<p>“Alfie”</p>
<p>But he didn’t look back at Tommy.</p>
<p>“I can’t right now. Give a man a minute, will ya, Tommy?” and Alfie was annoyed by how exhausted he sounded. He wished he could have just yelled at Tommy. Preferably all night long. Yelled and shouted at him and punched him and maybe throw a few things, smashing them against his wall, just to emphasize his point. Because, the point was, Thomas Shelby had broken his heart years and years ago, then vanished to thin air and had the audacity to show up after several decades, unlock his heart again with some stupid fucking tears...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tommy Shelby/Alfie Solomons</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. 1942, Early Autumn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/MintJam/gifts">MintJam</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Let's finally get this rolling and thanks for always leading me back to our boys. </p>
<p>Please listen to Shigeru Umebayashi's In the Mood for Love to get you to a cold and rainy day in 1942 <a href="http://https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gw9fKuymA0I">In the Mood for Love</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>When you are a god, the strangest things tend to happen. It could be, let’s say, the middle of a fucking World War, when you hear a bang on your door and get slightly annoyed, because who could that be? The enemies didn’t land in Margate yet, and you already served your country during another World War. Seriously, how many of these were you, a god who was just trying to live a peaceful life in Margate, expected to live through?</p><p>Alfie shuffled down the slightly dusty corridor were a bit clumsy due to the traces the wet winter still left in his bones. He was rambling something about giving a graying, middle-aged (but still astonishingly good looking) Jew some time, yeah, mate?<br/>
Unnaware that the sound of his sonorous voice vibrating through the door sent a shiver down the spine of the man who was waiting outside. </p><p>And the moment Alfie pulled down the cold brass handle of his wooden door, a swarm of warmth, of well-known scents and distinct memories hit that man, who dared knocking on god’s door, and enveloped him like a cloud.<br/>
Tommy had to close his eyes, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the scents of tea and wool. And well, maybe his eyes were already closed because of sheer anxiety upon Alfie’s reaction, but he’d never admit that. And then there was that other scent…</p><p>Alfie looked at the figure facing him, a figure, that could only be a ghost, no? But that lip biting…And then the punch right into his heart when a hoarse voice - <i> that<i> hoarse voice that he could never ever in a million years forget or not think of during his lonesome nights - whispered: </i></i></p><p>
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</p><p>“You’ve got a new dog.”</p><p>A bundle of golden fur appeared next to Alfie’s side, nudging him. Alfie was still taken aback when he finally answered: </p><p>“Well, I had to get a new one since you kept mine, yeah, remember?”</p><p>The ghost froze, if that was even possible for a ghost, and a heavy silence surrounded them.<br/>
Then a windy breeze whipped at Tommy's coat and ruffled Alfie's tangled hair, which almost made it impossible for him to catch the tenuous: </p><p>“He died, Alfie” </p><p>Tears traced glistening lines over the ever so delicate pale cheek. Fucking ghosts didn’t cry. That was something Alfie Solomons was damn well sure of. </p><p>So he reached out, cupped Tommy’s neck with one strong hand and pushed himself slightly forward until their heads touched </p><p>“He was old. S’alright.” They both breathed heavily, overwhelmed by emotions and a feeling as if standing in a strange dream. </p><p>S’alright. You are here now.”</p><p>he mumbled, while he leaned into the cold of Tommy’ forehead and tried not to pay too much attention to the slight trembling of the other man’s body.  </p><p>-∙-</p><p> </p><p>Over the years, Alfie had begun struggling with some small aches and pains, but his mind was as sharp as ever. And Tommy certainly wasn’t as boisterous and quick-tempered anymore as he had been in the 20s, but he also was mentally still at the top of its game. Yet neither of them would have been able to describe, in retrospect, how they ended up in Alfie’s cluttered but cozy living room, holding each other in a strong embrace. An embrace so powerful that there was hope it would be able to put all their broken pieces together again. </p><p>Tommy tried to suppress the panic and uncertainty rising in him and instead indulged in the wonderful fragrance that emanated from Alfie. </p><p>Meanwhile, Alfie did his best not to lecture Tommy on his rudeness and the fact that it had taken them literally decades to come to this exact moment. Instead he tried hard to simply focus on the here and now when he felt Tommy smirking, leaning against his breast.</p><p>“You smirking at me? Do you, Thomas fucking Shelby, really have the audacity to bless me with your presence after all these years only to smirk at me? What’s up with you, mate?”</p><p>“And what’s up with you, Alfie?” </p><p>Tommy asked with a very audible smile, looking up to Alfie. And if it hadn’t happened at the door or while they hugged, or when Thomas fucking Shelby had first walked into his office, it was certainly happening now. <i>This<i>, now, was the exact moment, Alfie knew for a certainty that he was fucked. He was fucked sideways and forever, a lost cause, because at this exact moment he was blessed with a real smile. A real and honest and beaming, heartwarming smile from Thomas Shelby, the man himself. </i></i></p><p>
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</p><p>“Alfie…”</p><p>“Hmm?” </p><p>“Why do you smell of fresh bread?” </p><p>Sensing how Alfie stiffened at that question and watched pointedly with his good eye, Tommy realized he should clarify:</p><p>“I like it. But I’m sure you never smelled like this before. The yeast maybe, but not the bread.”</p><p>“Well, things change, don’t they, Tommy? Haven’t made rum for a bloody age.”<br/>
Alfie paused thoughtfully.<br/>
The good old days, Tommy, eh? When we were young and restless. But now look at us, me being a god, and you?”</p><p>Tommy smirked a little sadly. Yeah, what about him now? He was a bit relieved to be honest, that Alfie didn’t answer his own question. Sure, he still took great care of his appearance, but if he only looked half as feeble as he felt, he regretted even more not coming earlier. </p><p>“Let’s call it foresight, shall we, yeah? Bread is much more wanted than rum these days. Believe me, mate,”<br/>
he explained in a very soothing voice. </p><p>It was a voice that could easily lull him to sleep, Tommy dreamily realized.<br/>
He’d honestly expected the worst, showing up on Alfie’s doorstep after all these years. After all that had happened, after everything they could have had and never did, because, well yeah, because of what exactly? Had they really both been such cowards? Them? Two of the most feared gangsters in all of Britain?</p><p>Tommy frowned. </p><p>“So you are running a real bakery now?”</p><p>And that’s how they started catching up.<br/>
Three hours and several pots of tea later, they still sat on Alfie’s huge sofa. </p><p>Yet, there was a tension lingering between them during all this superficial conversation. Tommy seemed more talkative than over all the years they had known each other combined, but Alfie was pretty sure that this was some screwed up tactic Tommy used to avoid <i>really</i> talking.

</p><p>
All the details about the dysfunctional Shelby family and their whereabouts – none of which Alfie actually gave a shit about, which Tommy ought to know -  were to avoid talking about <i>them</i>. And it was so screwed up because Alfie knew that Tommy knew. Alfie had always yearned for Tommy to be more responsive, to be someone he could have had a real conversation with. Tommy probably knew that he wanted that too. So, he still was a manipulative little shit then.  
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</p><p>But, this stupid hen party, it was his own fault for allowing Tommy to control the conversation, wasn’t it? In all those years, <i>decades<i>, Alfie had always imagined what it would be like if they met again. And as, well, <i>delicate<i> as some of these scenarios may have been, none of them ever ended with some idle chatter and tea. </i></i></i></i></p><p>
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</p><p>Alfie grew more and more agitated, thinking about his own inability to avoid this futility. He had been so sure that if they’d ever met again after Tommy’d spilled his stupid plan for Mosley, there were only two possible ways it could play out. And both of them were always fairly physical. </p><p>God, Mosley. Alfie wished he hadn’t started to think about that damn day. In fact, the tension he felt lingering between them like an omen now reminded him so much of that day that it became almost unbearable. They had both been so stupid then. Stupid and overconfident. Neither could afford to reveal to the other person even a bit of vulnerability, or even some openness. Instead, both of them had played their self-imposed roles and circled around each other, hoping that the other would understand and finally, <i>finally<i>, respond. They had always waited for the other to take the first step. Until it was too late. </i></i></p><p>
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</p><p>Jesus fuck, why hadn’t he allowed himself to be brave back then? Why did he let him go?</p><p>Why had he pretended that he didn’t remember writing that letter? And why hadn’t Tommy fucking call him out for lying about the letter?</p><p>And fucking hell, Alfie thought as he brought himself back to their present conversation, why was he still talking about sending Lizzie and the kids to Switzerland? The kids. Yeah, great, Tommy. Congrats on killing the mood. </p><p> </p><p>BANG<br/>
Alfie slammed his hand down on the table, nearly toppling his cup and startling Tommy as well as his dog, who had been snoring peacefully next to the fire.</p><p>“Whoa! Alfie?”</p><p>Tommy’s eyes widened in fear, or was it anticipation? </p><p>Alfie, who had jumped up after hitting the table, ran his hands through his beard and hair. Agitated, he paced back and forth, before he came to halt, pointing his finger to Tommy, his nostrils flaring. </p><p>For the second time during that evening, a heavy silence surrounded them. They stared at each other, knowing that the next move could crack the ice they had been tiptoeing on for hours, years maybe.</p><p>“You,” Alfie puffed “you fucking wander down this corridor now, yeah? And get into that bloody guest room!”</p><p>Tommy looked at him, not really upset, but rather guilty, which somehow irritated Alfie even more since it was so uncommon.<br/>
After a few seconds that felt like an eternity, Tommy finally got up. He swallowed, still looking startled, and opened his mouth, but nothing came out.<br/>
The ominous silence between them was only interrupted by the loud cracking of the thick logs in the fireplace.<br/>
Finally Alfie snorted in irritation and called his dog:</p><p>“Come here, Eroll. Since the fine Mr. Shelby seemed to have forgotten how to put one foot in front of the other, we’ll go. Off to bed then, come.”<br/>
The dog obediently nestled against his master, who was leaning heavily on his cane when he turned to leave the room.</p><p>“Alfie”</p><p>But he didn’t look back at Tommy. </p><p>“I can’t right now. Give a man a minute, will ya, Tommy?” and Alfie was annoyed by how exhausted he sounded. He wished he could have just yelled at Tommy. Preferably all night long. Yelled and shouted at him and punched him and maybe throw a few things, smashing them against his wall, just to emphasize his point. Because, the point was, Thomas Shelby had broken his heart years and years ago, then vanished to thin air and had the audacity to show up after several <i>decades<i>, unlock his heart again with some stupid fucking tears and then waste his time with idle fucking chit chat.</i></i></p><p>
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</p><p>In the bedroom Eroll laid down on his own blanket and watched as Alfie paced around.<br/>
While he put his vest off, Alfie kept mumbling “It’s ridiculous. It’s fucking ridiculous.”<br/>
The events of the day had drained him and he sat on his bed, elbows on his knees, facing Eroll with glassy eyes.</p><p>“I mean, can you believe it, mate? He came here. Hmm, finally. Took him long enough. Making me wait all this years like an idiot. Not that I’d waited on him exactly, did I Well fuck I did. The audacity of this tiny fucker. Shit. Still looking damn good, right, Eroll? His fucking eyes.”</p><p>The dog just stared at him, looking up at him as if to ask ‘what’s the problem then’. Well, at least that’s what Alfie liked to think he were asking. </p><p>“Ah, you’re a wise creature, aren’t you? Should stop whining, no? Ought to be happy he showed up at all. We are lucky, isn’t that what we are?”<br/>
Alfie started to walk up and down in his room again with new found energy. Eroll wagged his tail excitedly.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, I know he likes horses but you wait and see. He’ll warm to you, big guy, won’t he? We’ll make sure he will. Because, well, someone, right Eroll, someone has to behave like a reasonable adult, here, hmm? Yeah.“ </p><p>Alfie nervously stroke over his beard again and again with growing anticipation, his anger vanishing. Then he stopped and listened. And just by sensing his master’s attention, Eroll lifted his head a bit and moved his ears. </p><p>„Think he‘s still standing in the living room?“</p><p>Eroll hufffed a bit, laid his head down again, and put one paw over his eyes.  </p><p>„Right. Right, c‘mon,” Alfie told himself. “He‘s here. That‘s all you ever wanted, y’ old fool, ain’t it?“ He took a deep breath, straightened his shoulders, and left his room.</p><p> </p><p>-∙-</p><p> </p><p>Across the corridor Tommy stood awkwardly in the guest room. He had gone to it like a child that had been scolded, carefully closing the door because he’d been too anxious about being too loud and causing more disappointment. <b> Fuck. </b> This wasn’t what he wanted.<br/>
He didn‘t even want to chit chat and still he had done so. He’d behaved like a coward again.<br/>
The first minutes had been so promising. And then he’d got all nervous. </p><p>
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</p><p>He totally blamed the room for the fact he had fallen back into old patterns. The surroundings reminded him just too much of the meeting they’d had before the attack on Mosley. He’d ruined it that time too. But, he didn‘t intend to let that happen again. Not ever. </p><p>Tommy rubbed nervously on his nose, wondering why he hadn’t lit a cigarette yet. Well, not now, he decided. He desperately wanted to do everything right. He took a deep breath, straightened his shoulders and took a step towards the door. </p><p>Frustration rose in his chest while his hand was reaching for the door handle. He was Thomas Shelby, for fuck‘s sake, and he knew why he’d come here. He knew what he wanted. He…</p><p>„Woah!“ </p><p>„Shit!“</p><p>Alfie had opened the door the exact minute Tommy had grasped the handle, and they’d nearly crashed together. Nearly. Now here they were. Two idiots in love. Two grown men who had a history together. A history of decades, of...</p><p>„Stupid“ Alfie mumbled </p><p>„Hmm?“</p><p>But before he could ask more, Alfie took Tommy‘s wrist with his fingers. Careful, but determined. Not willing to mess this up. Not ever again.</p><p>„Look, Thomas, I…, I didn‘t mean two yell, alright? But you...I mean, give an old man a break, will ya? Because, you coming here, and...“</p><p>„I should have done this years ago. I was an idiot, Alfie.<br/>
And I see you smirking.“<br/>
Tommy had to smile now too.<br/>
He loved how his hands felt just good held in Alfie‘s. He loved how he himself felt good, content, how coming here after everything still felt like the right decision. A decision he had procrastinated on for far too long.<br/>
Their eyes met and their fingers now entangled properly.</p><p>“Alfie.” </p><p>“Thomas.”</p><p>They looked at each other. Alfie’s thumb carefully started to caress Tommy’s hand. Neither blinked; they just dived into the other man’s eyes and got lost in each other’s souls.</p><p>For the second time that day, Alfie moved his head slowly forwards and leaned against Tommy’s. He let go of his hands and cupped Tommy’s neck.</p><p>“Hmmm” Alfie pressed their heads even closer together, licked his lips in anticipation, eyes closed...</p><p>“Woooof!”</p><p>“Fuck!” </p><p>But they both had to laughed heartily when they moved apart in shock.</p><p>“Eroll! Worse than a kid, ain’t ya? Now, Tom, get out of this stupid guest room, yeah?!”</p><p>And like that Alfie dragged Tommy out of the room, which he never in all the decades to come would set a foot again. </p><p>Back then though it was the first time that Tommy stepped into Alfie’s bedroom and that realization alone was quite captivating.<br/>
It was already dark outside; the curtain was closed and the night lamp bathed the room in a wonderful warm light. Although the unfamiliar and intimate surroundings should have troubled him, Tommy immediately felt comfortable and secure. Everything seemed to be softer and when they looked at each other they were surrounded by an orange glow.<br/>
Alfie carefully reached out and caressed Tommy’s delicate cheekbone. Tenderly stroking with his thumb, he felt how Tommy leaned into the touch.<br/>
Alfie’s other hand cupped Tommy’s face too and the kiss that followed wasn’t any longer careful but wanting and filled with long captivated desire. </p><p> </p><p>One month later a letter addressed to Ada Shelby arrived in Locarno, Switzerland. It didn’t say a lot, but told so much:</p><p> </p><p>Dear Ada,</p><p>Thanks for meddling in. Repeatedly.<br/>
We talked a lot.<br/>
I will stay.<br/>
Tommy</p><p>P.S. God, it’s really none of your business, but no, we didn’t just talk.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Christmas 1942</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What is it, Alfie, eh?”</p><p>“Hmm, what is what, Thomas?”</p><p>“Come on. You’ve been lingering around the bookshelf for half an hour, staring at me whenever you think I am not noticing.”</p><p>“Ah well, Thomas Shelby, this is my very own exquisite library, and a good book has to be chosen wisely. “And” – Alfie did his best now to tower over Tommy, to whom he’d just stepped over – “I will never get tired of staring at you. I am very pleased indeed that you did notice, while reading this letter for, what, the hundredth time now?”</p><p>“It’s business.”</p><p>“Humpfh.”<br/>
And like that Alfie let himself drop down dramatically at the old, plushy sofa next to the impressive wooden desk that somehow - and he wasn’t even too sure about the when and how exactly – had been taken over by Tommy.</p><p>“That cousin of yours doing an insufficient job? Or is it something else, hmm? Your mind has been wandering, Tommy. And I don’t blame you; actually that’s exactly the point I wanted to make.”</p><p>“Don’t.”</p><p>Surprisingly there was no more resistance, but Tommy just looked pretty exhausted while he slowly approached Alfie, accepting the latter’s outstretched hand slightly hesitantly.</p><p>“I thought we decided you don’t ask me about my business” Tommy muttered in frustration, while the logs from the massive fireplace cracked in the background and he tried to gain some security from their warmth that surrounded him. </p><p>“Hmmm.” </p><p>Alfie held Tommy by his wrist and wanted to drag him down. During the months that Tommy had spent with him in Margate, there had been more than just one occasion where he managed to get Thomas Shelby down onto his lap. Oh yes. Several times. Which didn’t mean he didn’t feel like nearly fainting when it happened the first time. He would never stop feeling this fantastic high whenever it happened. The pressure of Tommy’s legs around his waist was a sensation he could never get tired of, but today he felt a certain restraint. At least Tommy ended up sitting down next to him, their thighs touching very comfortably. They were still holding hands, Alfie’s rough thumb gently stroking the back of Tommy’s hand.  But while Alfie loved that sensation as much as the body heat their thighs were pulsing off to each other, he didn’t like the way how Tommy leaned his head on the backrest, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.</p><p>The tension Tommy was radiating drove Alfie crazy, yet he pulled himself together and carefully reached over to steal the cigarette from Tommy’s other hand. That earned him an irritated glance, but he still continued to run his thumb slowly over Tommy’s hand. And Tommy didn’t flinch away, only kept looking at him with a frown on his face and pleading eyes.</p><p>“Tommy, this time of year, yeah, it’s special. I get that. Whether it be Hanukkah or Christmas or whatever, I know you think about your family. “ Alfie felt Tommy stiffen up a bit and was just fast enough to close his grip around the other man’s hand.<br/>
“And what kind of man would you be if it was otherwise, hm? Even one eye is more than enough to see what’s going on here, Tommy.”<br/>
But Tommy didn’t quite catch how sad Alfie sounded, since he was too busy thinking that a few decades earlier – apart from never having this kind of conversation with Alfie Solomons in the first place – he would have just jumped off and yelled “Don’t you dare tell me anything about my family!”<br/>
But truth be told, the years can change a man and what can change a man even more, was his decision to finally stop living a lie.<br/>
As for Tommy, it had never been a conscious choice, but one that had been inevitable from the time Alfie stepped into his life. His decision to finally stop lying was caused by the man who was able to read him like no other - well actually like no one besides Polly and Ada -, from the first minute they met. And the last months had only improved Alfie’s skill but thankfully also Tommy’s willingness to finally open up.</p><p>“Come here, Tommy, hmm.”</p><p>And when Tommy gave up his resistance and leaned into Alfie’s bear hug, he was surprised to feel how fast Alfie’s heart was beating. He forced himself to keep his eyes open, even if he could have lost himself in the feeling of Alfie's worn shirt on his cheek and that wonderful, masculine scent. Alfie smelt like home. </p><p>“That cousin, Alfie, is doing a pretty good job.” He mumbled against the strong chest. Getting a bit fidgety he added slightly annoyed:<br/>
“Admittedly better than I ever imagined.” </p><p>Alfie laughed at that, sending a pleasant vibration to Tommy’s cheek.  Then he gently lifted Tommy’s chin up, kissed him on the forehead and leaned their heads together. His breath was tickling on Tommy’s nose when he asked: </p><p>“And still, that’s not the cause of your worries, is it, Tommy? During this special time of year, we tend to reminisce, right? Thinking about Arthur senior, maybe, hmm? And Charlie?”</p><p>Okay, that was too much. Tommy wriggled out of the embrace, elbows on his knees, his head hanging down. He could deal with a lot of things, but Alfie reading him like an open book still made him feel so vulnerable.</p><p>“I always wanted to do better than him, Alfie. But it’s…I…”<br/>
Erol sensed the change in atmosphere and lifted his head for a short moment. Only to cuddle up onto his paw again when he heard his human’s vibrato. </p><p>“Let me ask you something here, right? When did your very own son, or your daughter, or that Lizzie, hmm, when did anybody in the whole bloody Shelby clan ever have to go hungry, hmm? When were you ever not able to put some food and the table? Their table, which if you ask me, was a pretty big one, especially in that presumptuous mansion of yours, Tommy. Hmm? They grew up in a fucking mansion not the stables or the streets. They never had to steal or beg for anything since a damn long time, right? They got a good education, grew up in the right neighborhood, with friends that were respectable, yeah? You even managed to get them out of the country. Not exactly the same grand maneuver than when you saved them from the rope. But still, you took care of them, every single day of your life, Tommy.”</p><p>Alfie had finally gotten too riled up to be sitting any longer. Deep down in his heart, he knew this moment would come. But after their first blissful weeks turned into several months, he got so naïve to think this could be it. He really had allowed himself to believe that Thomas Shelby decided to spend the rest of his life not in his mansion, but with an old Jew with a ragged face, here at Margate. </p><p>Alfie shuffled over to a chair with a slight limp, caused by that damn back pain, leaning against the back of the chair, hoping that he might at least appear angry to Thomas.  He really hoped Tommy wouldn’t notice that he was trembling. His whole body was shaking because he realized that this was the moment when his heart was finally being irreversibly torn into pieces.</p><p>“As little as you may have ever thought about me, Thomas, I am not a man who’d demand someone to separate from his family.”</p><p>“What?” Tommy asked confusedly, finally looking up at Alfie.<br/>
“I have no clue what you are talking about. I never thought little about you, Alfie.”<br/>
Tommy got up as if he was awoken from a dream and had only listened to Alfie’s rambling through a fog. But all of a sudden he saw, that they were racing towards a cliff and he couldn’t let that happen. </p><p>“Hey.”<br/>
It was a pure wonder that Tommy wasn’t pushed away when he approached Alfie.<br/>
Alfie needed all his power to keep standing since the room seemed to move around him. Only when Tommy’s cold fingers were cupping his scarred cheeks the movement got slower.</p><p>“You are not going to lose me, Alfie. It’s just that..you watch the people you care about age and die…and I…” Tommy sighed, rubbing his forehead.<br/>
“It feels like this here and my family is mutually exclusive.  While I sometimes want to have both, you and my family.”</p><p>“At least to a certain extent, that is.” He mumbled a few seconds later.<br/>
“But I’ve had my chances, and I never used them well. Not with Charlie, or Lizzie, or Grace. I fucked everything up. And I don’t want to fuck them up even more. They are better off without me.”</p><p>They both stared at each other, maybe more shocked about Tommy just openly admitting that he messed up, than him admitting that he wanted to be with Alfie.</p><p>“So, this here” Alfie cleared his throat and gestured around them “what’s this, then?” he demanded and Erol also lifted his head again, as if he sensed, his humans were discussing something important. </p><p>Tommy’s fingers carefully slid onto Alfie's hand, which was still clutching the back of the chair so tightly that the knuckles shimmered white.<br/>
“The best fucking plan I ever had in my whole damn life.” Tommy breathed, hoping his voice didn’t tremble enough to give his nervousness away. </p><p>“Which isn’t saying a lot, Thomas, is it?” Alfie teased him.<br/>
What a relief. Both men felt a heavy weight slipping off their shoulders. Never would have Alfie thought Tommy would be that open and honest to him about his family. And never had Tommy felt closer to saying “I want to be with you”.</p><p>“C’mere, gypsy” Alfie grinned, lifting his weight away from the chair and onto Tommy’s arm.<br/>
“Stupid politician” Alfie went one in between nudging his beard at Tommy’s neck.<br/>
“Wanna be businessman.” </p><p>“Wanna be?!” Tommy laughed, no offence but only amusement in his voice.<br/>
“Yeah” and they both felt each other’s breath on their skin, lips only millimeters apart.<br/>
“Deep down here” and Alfie planted one hand above Tommy’s wild beating heart,<br/>
“Here yeah, you are nothing but a gangster” lips finally colliding. </p><p>They enjoyed each other full of hunger and devotion. </p><p>After a few minutes, Tommy gasped:<br/>
“Promise we never discuss my fuck ups again, eh?”</p><p>“Hmm, not sure that’s healthy, Tommy.” and Erol barked as if to reaffirm his master’s opinion.</p><p>Alfie was beyond happy. And who knew, once this stupid war was over, they could maybe invite Tommy’s sister and aunt, eh? They seemed to have more sense than most of the men in the Shelby family. </p><p>And while Tommy maneuvered them back to the sofa, Alfie imagined them having a wonderful Hannukah-Christmas-gypsy something celebration. He would teach them all they had to know about his people’s history and their tradition. Yeah, one day they could do that, it would make Tommy so happy. </p><p>Of course, Tommy realized he had been wondering off in his thoughts:</p><p>“Are you ok, Alfie?”</p><p>“I am, Tommy, I am” and he planted one last kiss on Tommy’s forehead, before contentedly leaning back into some pillows. Erol jumped up, joining them on the sofa, stretching out over both their laps. “Now tell me, Tommy, what do you know about Hannukah, hmm?”</p><p>Tommy just looked at him questioningly with his fascinating ice blue eyes.</p><p>“Hmm” Alfie grunted when he didn't get an answer, captivated by Tommy’s beauty.<br/>
“Well did you know, Tommy, that in fact every hannukia is a menorah, but not every menorah is a hannukia? Hmm, well, no worries, love. I’ll make sure to teach you a bit about Hannukah. And other things in life, eh?”</p><p>And Tommy asked himself if he should bring up this “my love” pet name thing first or the question if they could also have a Christmas tree.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thanks to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/museme87/pseuds/boundinshallows">Muse</a> who beta read the first four chapters and his hopefully not loosing her mind over all the changes I made.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. 1950, December 29th</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p>It was around 9 am, when they were peacefully sitting in their kitchen, both reading a part of the newspaper like they always did in the morning. The stove gave off a pleasant warmth that had even lured Erol to give up his usual space in front of the fire place and doze under the table. They had renovated a lot in Margate over the past 8 years, but Alfie was attached to his old kitchen.</p>
<p>The first thing Tommy had taken care of as soon as possible was the lighting though.<br/>
“Lighting up the house like the damn Picadilly Circus wouldn’t be necessary if SOMEONE hadn't shot my fucking eye out!”<br/>
Well, that remark had led to some remarkable bad-conscious-make-up-sex and one of the best illuminated houses in the county of Kent.</p>
<p>Nevertheless, Alfie had to use a magnifying glass to be able to decipher the newspaper's small font to some extent. It hurt Tommy’s soul each time he saw Alfie struggling, sitting far bent over the paper and ruining not only his remained eye but also his back. But there were only a very few things Alfie enjoyed more than reading. And it never failed to entertain him:</p>
<p>“Huh, won’t you believe that! Listen love: ‘On Christmas Day the Stone of Scone was stolen from Westminster Abbey in London. The Stone of Scone, the ancient Stone upon which Scottish monarchs had been crowned, was kept in Westminster Abbey in London and fitted into King Edward's Chair. Subsequent English and then British monarchs were crowned sitting upon the chair and Stone.’<br/>
Daring bastards, them!”</p>
<p>Tommy just smiled and wondered how much Alfie missed being a gangster.<br/>
Each of them had almost completely let the next generation take over their business after the war, although it seemed as if each of them still had two or three little things running in the background discretely. But all of this happened almost more as a pastime than anything else. Both had been so successful before and during the war that they never had to work again and still lead a comfortable life.</p>
<p>Tommy’s smile changed into raised eyebrows, looking at Alfie, who stared at him intently now, both hands cupping his huge tea pot, which was steaming away. </p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“Just, wondering, if one fine day, you’ll finally tell me why you didn’t shoot me?” and all the admiration for the reckless thieves had given way to a rather aggravated but also hurt tone whose sudden appearance Tommy couldn't really explain.</p>
<p>“You know why” he mumbled, concentrating back on his part of the paper, whishing intently to let this discussion go away and already knowing he wouldn’t be that lucky.</p>
<p>“Well, I don’t really think so Tommy. Because the only reason I can think of wouldn’t have made you wait another 20 years to linger around until you finally worked up the nerve to knock on my door!”</p>
<p>Tommy took his own reading glasses off, ready for a saucy retort. What on earth made Alfie to bring this up again after all these years? Why did he have to ruin this peaceful morning by pressing his finger deep down in that wound?<br/>
“Ugh, Alfie” he started but was distracted by the way Alfie had moaned when he got up. It wasn’t the pleasurable moaning Tommy loved to get out of his man, no it sounded painful. Tommy was irritated and got up too, feeling too much into defense sitting there while Alfie leaned onto his chair now, one finger accusingly pointing at him.<br/>
“Alfie. What…why are you so”</p>
<p>“So what, Tommy, huh?” The sudden tension on the air had woken Erol up who right away sat protectively at Alfie’s side.<br/>
For a second Tommy thought how absurd both their accusing looks pointed at him were, while he hadn’t done anything to cause all this fuss. </p>
<p>But Tommy’s heart just sunk and felt very heavy when he noticed that Alfi's eyes were filled with tears while they looked at him so reproachful. He didn’t know what to say or how to react to this outburst. Sure, Alfie had always had his tempers and age never played nice on anybody’s mood, but this sudden change and the anger that was vibrating through Alfie now, although Tommy hadn’t done anything in this specific moment, that was something new. And as if it had still been necessary to underline the severity of the situation, it began to rain and storm outside. Erol whined. </p>
<p>“Did you ever, just for one fucking moment in your goddamn, selfish existence, Thomas Shelby, thought, what if I didn’t make it long enough to hear your fucking knock on the door?” and he nearly yelled at Tommy: “Time is precious, it’s fucking limited.”<br/>
And then it was as if all the anger that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere turned into fragility and pain. Alfie's body trembled and his voice came out as a defeated reproach: “I could live with thinking you didn’t feel the same, at least not for me, because why would you. But knowing that you did and wasted FUCKING WASTED all these years. While I was“<br/>
But Tommy didn’t give him a chance to finish that sentence; he’d seen and heard enough and closed the distance between them, taking Alfie in a strong hold. It wasn’t a hug yet, since Alfie fought and wanted to either yell at Tommy or at least hit him with his fists.</p>
<p>But Tommy didn’t let go. He had sworn to himself never to do that again. He had sworn he would always be there for Alfie and never let him down. There was so much, too much actually he had to make up for.<br/>
“Alfie. Alfie, please. Shhh.” Tommy carefully loosened his grip a bit and started to run his hand in circles over Alfies’s back to calm him down, while the other arm still steadied the other man’s body who felt like going more and more limp and melting into him.<br/>
“I’m here now, right?” and Erol gave of a tiny bark as if to emphasize it. </p>
<p>They were leaning onto each other, minutes passing, their heads pressed together, and Tommy absently realized his face felt damp, not sure if he was crying himself or if he felt Alfie’s tears on his cheeks.</p>
<p>“Hurt” Tommy heard an almost inaudible croak. </p>
<p>“What was that? Alfie? C’mon, look at me” and he gently lifted Alfie’s chin up and looked him deep into the reddened eyes, his thumb tenderly stroking some tears from the bearded face. A deep sigh escaped Alfies’s mouth and he defeated sank back in his chair. Tommy still stood, looking down worryingly to the love of his live. </p>
<p>Alfie’s left leg was stretched out and they both knew that it tortured him. Avoiding Tommy’s sight, Alfie gazed out of the kitchen window, not really focusing on anything but the raindrops running down the glass and the confession he finally had to make.</p>
<p>“I’m a fucking god” he finally started to mumble more as if he had to convince himself.<br/>
“I’m still strong, Tommy, always have been.”</p>
<p>Lighting a cigarette Tommy sat down again too and followed the smoke that wafted slowly through the kitchen.</p>
<p>“Thought we were over this.”</p>
<p>“Hmm?”</p>
<p>Frustratingly already stubbing out his cigarette again, Tommy frowned at Alfie:<br/>
“The silence, Alfie. Secrets. None of us is 20 anymore. Why did you not tell me you’re in pain?”</p>
<p>“I didn’t say that I am.”</p>
<p>“Well, exactly! The great talker Alfie Solomons who is complaining since decades about me not opening my fucking mouth and expressing FEELINGS is sitting in his own kitchen, leg outstretched, because obviously your knee hurts and what about your back, huh?”</p>
<p>“It’s our kitchen” Alfie muttered into his beard.</p>
<p>“Excuse me?”</p>
<p>“Said it’s fucking our kitchen.” Alfie mumbled and Tommy could have sworn he caught him looking up carefully as if he knew he was talking shit and was trying how far he could go. Well, obviously he thought he could take it a bit further:<br/>
“Unless you don’t want to be here anymore….with an old”<br/>
But he didn’t get to finish his nonsense as Tommy did the only thing of which he could ever be sure of that would silence Alfie.</p>
<p>After all these years, decades even, Tommy never got tired of kissing Alfie. Especially not to make him stop talking…what an enjoyable Achilles heel, Tommy thought while leaning over the still seated Alfie. And then the beard. He never thought he would like to get his lips near something so shaggy and masculine, but he simply loved to bury his hands in the opaque tangle and, depending on the mood, to pull on it or to scratch it; the latter preferably while laying on Alfies’s naked chest, lost in thought, in a post sex daze. Damn. </p>
<p>“Get up. Come on.” He ordered, trying to sound more stable than he felt. </p>
<p>“Well, look at you, Thomas Shelby, former MOP, didn’t we just got out of bed?” Alfie smirked, still a bit feeble, but there definitely was some smugness shining through. </p>
<p>“And who gives a fuck, he, Alfie? Isn’t this our house? Where we can do whatever we like?”</p>
<p>And while they stumbled back to the bedroom, horny as if they indeed were in their roaring twenties again, both made a secret note to themselves that this discussion was not yet over, but right now, well, right now, they had other businesses that needed to be taken care of.<br/>
***<br/>
Later on, they both starred at the ceiling, their sides pleasantly pressed together.<br/>
Alfie felt drained and full of energy at the same time, if that was even possible. In any case, it helped to say things that were difficult to pronounce when the reputation of your early life was on your neck and you were faced with a man who, like a good wine, only seemed to get better with age, as it seems to be for Tommy. </p>
<p>The latter knew Alfie would say something sooner or later, but he had learned a bit over the years and from his past mistakes. Yet you’d never hear him say “What’s bothering you, Alfie? How can I help you?” since it would still only result in Alfie denying needing any help. But after all they had been through and after all and everyone he had lost, Tommy had gotten softer too and knew what he had to say to let Alfie feel that he still had the upper hand. But knowing that this was no longer the case, the fact that Alfie was getting more and more unwell with age, broke his heart. Which was another reason for him to get a bit more onto his side, nudging his head slightly on Alfie’s shoulder.</p>
<p>“Hey, you remember how you always said what a selfish prick I was?”</p>
<p>“Was?” came the counter question sounding slightly tired and filled with fare more amusement than heat.</p>
<p>“Yeah, so, you think, if I’d wanted to change, you could help me a little?”</p>
<p>“Hmm, maybe. Yes, I think I might as well be that generous to lead you on the right path, Thomas.”</p>
<p>Tommy couldn’t help but snort at that pure 1920s Alfie remark. </p>
<p>“Well then, let me get these awful tinder blocks for the kitchen stove from now on, yeah?” and he could see in his eyes Alfie knew what he was doing, just as Alfie had always been reading him like an open book and therefore he quickly added with a mischievous grin:<br/>
“Just to make sure I’m not getting too spoiled.”</p>
<p>And now it was Alfie’s turn to snort. </p>
<p>“Damn, spoiled you are, but do me a favor yeah? That article about the robbery, could you read that to me again?”</p>
<p>Instantly reaching out for his glasses, Tommy wondered why he had been such an idiot not to think earlier about reading to Alfie out loud.<br/>
When they had finished the article, they both listened lost in thought to the increasing wind that whipped the rain-soaked branches against their bedroom window. Tommy felt how the realization of being salvaged by the man next to him once again overwhelmed him. How could someone be your savior and your ruin at the same time? He was breathing faster and faster, his body tensed, and his eyes burned, as a soft, warm hand reached under the covers for his.<br/>
Yes, ruined he was, when a fucking hand squeeze by a stupid old guy could instantly calm him down, right?<br/>
“Uhm, my back, it’s giving me a rough time Tommy. And I thought, maybe we could try to put some boards under the mattresses? Think these soft ones ruined me.”</p>
<p>“Sure, who needs soft, anyway.” Tommy trembled, eyes still blinking.<br/>
And now it was Alfie’s turn to move to his side. Their eyes met, while Alfie slowly reached out to brush Tommy’s slightly damp hair off his face. </p>
<p>“Hmm, there are these two amazing guys that immediately come to my mind.”</p>
<p>“Yeah? Tell me more”, Tommy whispered while leaning in closer, his lips already brushing over Alfie’s.<br/>
The latter suddenly dragging him into a strong hug that felt like coming home, flooding him with memories of their reckless years.</p>
<p>“Quite stubborn they are”, Alfie hummed while slowly kissing along Tommy’s neck. Both the tender touches and the vibrato of his deep voice making the other one shiver aroused.</p>
<p>“Huh, that a problem?” Tommy managed to smirk challenging before reaching for Alfie’s beautiful lips again. </p>
<p>At first, he got nothing more than a delightful humming sound for an answer, while their lips and tongues were still entangled. But then Alfie parted from Tommy with playfully sucking at his lower lip and smiled:<br/>
“Sometimes” and pressed the younger man even closer to his heart. </p>
<p>“But there is nothing a little softness can’t heal”.<br/>
And while Tommy listened to the other’s heartbeat and started to already get lost in the warmth Alfie was radiating, he felt how both their bodies definitely enjoyed this tenderness.  Not for the first and definitely also not for the last time he wondered, how on earth they managed to get to this point.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. 1954</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>During the war, Alfie had benefited from growing some of his own vegetables. And once his ambition was piqued, nothing and no one could stop him from figuring out the conditions under which tomatoes would thrive best and when was the perfect time to pick the apples.</p><p>As it turned out, where Tommy failed at vegetables, he had a bit of a knack for flowers.</p><p>If anyone had ever asked him about it, Alfie would have said with complete conviction that he personally was not surprised about this at all.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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</p><p>While Tommy was growing up, used to the regular beatings of the dipshit of a father he had, soon mourning his mother, hardening up and becoming one of the most feared gangsters and envied business man, he was able to imagine a lot and dreamed about even more, but never in just one second at any of these days had he imagined to spend more than a decade living together with another man. A Jew. Another gangster. Someone who had betrayed him. Several times. And not at any of these days would he have thought that the most recent past decade would be the happiest of his life. But it was.<br/>
Because he was in love and was loved in return.<br/>
By a man. A Jew. A former gangster.</p><p>“What are you smiling at Tommy boy, hm?”	</p><p>Tommy couldn’t help but snort. “Tommy boy? Have you forgotten how old we are?”</p><p>“My sweet boy, you are only as old as you allow your mind to be.”</p><p>Well, Tommy was sure the saying usually went a bit differently, but he let Alfie have this. Fifteen or twenty years ago he would never have bitten his tongue and stepped back from a snarky remark but twenty years is a long time and things change. Yeah, things. Tommy preferred to think about it like this, still too suspicious to believe that people really changed.<br/>
But some things never changed. Some things remained one big fucking constant that was holding everything together. And for Tommy that constant was…, no not Alfie. They met quite late in their lives and had had their ups and downs and separations. No, that one constant in Tommy’s life was smoking. </p><p>“I was five, Alfie.”</p><p>“Hmm?” Alfie asked, looking up from scratching Errol.<br/>
From Alfie’s feet, Errol looked up too.<br/>
</p><p>The garden bench Alfie and Tommy were sitting at, was framed by dark violet hollyhocks.<br/>
It had become one of their morning rituals during the warmer months: first taking a walk on the beach then drinking their coffee outside in their beautiful garden.<br/>
</p><p>During the war, Alfie had benefited from growing some of his own vegetables. And once his ambition was piqued, nothing and no one could stop him from figuring out the conditions under which tomatoes would thrive best and when was the perfect time to pick the apples. And he never got tired of telling Tommy that this was before they fell off by themselves.<br/>
Tommy loved Alfie’s apple jelly, and would probably murder for what Alfie’s strawberry/rhubarb compote.<br/>
In one year, he even roused Tommie's ambition, stunned by the sheer abundance of pumpkins that had settled on their compost. Ever one with a competitive streak, Tommy had tried to grow more and bigger pumpkins than Alfie. However, after a few weeks with little progress, Tommy’s patience wore thin, so they shifted their competition to sunflowers instead. As it turned out, where Tommy failed at vegetables, he had a bit of a knack for flowers.</p><p>If anyone had ever asked him about it, Alfie would have said with complete conviction that he personally was not surprised about this at all. From the outset, it had always been clear to him how sensitive and perceptive Tommy could be… if he only wanted to.<br/>
</p><p>But no one ever asked about the magnificent garden that grew bigger and more colorful over the years. The once slightly somber looking house, with its two grumpy old men, had come to be surrounded by a fragrant and good tasting jungle full of Jasmine, hydrangeas, carnations, dahlias, begonias, petunias, delphiniums, hollyhocks in each and every color, and Tommy’s beloved roses.</p><p>At the beginning of their life here, there had been walks at the beach for hours, followed by standing outside, a coffee mug in one hand, and a cigarette in Tommy’s other. These days the walks had gown shorter, and a few years ago the local carpenter made them a beautiful wooden bench to rest their aging knees.<br/>
At first Tommy had made fun of it after hearing that Alfie had commissioned the bench. But when he saw the outcome - a wonderful hand carved oak bench, the back of which was softly curved at the upper edge with the wildly waving manes of two beautiful horses - Tommy might have gotten something in his eye, grumbling about Alfie being a sappy fool and then taking good care of his sappy fool later that night. </p><p>Recently walking through the sand had gotten too exhausting for Alfie and even Errol didn’t accompany Tommy any longer over the full distance, trotting back to Alfie after a while. But they both always welcomed him back home from their bench. </p><p>Today they were then taking their sweet time for the first coffee in the morning (and Tommy’s mostly first cigarette, give or take one or two, of the day). He lit it up. A slight smile playing around his lips.</p><p>“I was five years old, Alfie, when I picked up my first butt.” Tommy let out a slight laugh.<br/>
“I’m told I walked proudly behind Arthur, who’d had his own cigarette. Both of us feeling as if we ruled the world.”</p><p>“Huh, as I know you, you're more likely to have marched in front of your brother.” </p><p>Errol whimpered a bit and Alfie went on stroking to his thick fur. His brow was furrowed when he asked Tommy, without looking up:</p><p>“Five years, huh? Ain’t that a bit young, even for one…” And they both knew how Alfie would have added some insulting word in here, at the beginning of their friendship. But know he just finished after a thoughtful pause with “of your family?”</p><p>Tommy just huffed. </p><p>After a while, he mumbled, “Didn’t kill me then and hasn’t killed me yet.” </p><p>The light atmosphere was so obviously gone, which made Alfie angry. How could he seriously be expected to tolerate this stupid behavior? Once the man you love finally stays with you, you want him to stay as long as possible, no?</p><p>“Fuck, spit it out, Alfie. I can literally hear your thoughts running around your head.” </p><p>Tommy turned around to face Alfie, who let go off the dog, and leaned back on their bench. ( And why did he always think of it as their bench anyway, when Tommy was still at this age always too reckless to even sit down for a moment?) He faced Tommy, blinking against the sunlight. </p><p>“I heard something on the radio.”</p><p>“Oh for fucks sake, Alfie, don’t always believe everything you hear from that box.”</p><p>“But listen, mate, that was a science program where they came up with some interesting thoughts and there are these tests and maybe smoking isn’t as good as they always say, and..” </p><p>They both knew what this “and” stood for. It was the reason Tommy had already cut back on drinking.</p><p>“They, huh? Alfie, I’m fine, okay? I mean, I am the one who is still going for long walks, right?”</p><p>“Fucking arse long walks, leaving me all alone here.”</p><p>“Jesus, Alfie. Pouting? Seriously?”</p><p>But no more bickering followed. Instead, Tommy kneeled in front of Alfie, who had shifted, his elbows on his legs. Errol was happy to see Tommy next to him and nudged him so hart, that Tommy stumbled a bit. After regaining his balance, Tommy tentatively reached out for Alfie’s hands, a part of him expecting to be shrugged off after laughing about Alfie. But the latter was thirsty to be touched and assured about what they had and that he still had Tommy by his side. </p><p>Even ten years ago, Alfie had wondered why Tommy had chosen him. He’d wondered how he got so lucky after all this time and marveled that Tommy hadn’t got bored of his old arse yet. As much as he had been a really frightening figure during his London times, self-doubt gnawed at Alfie’s ego since, well if he was honest to himself, since the moment Tommy had showed up at his doorstep in 1942. Doubting himself, his worth, and meaning to Tommy was a nasty habit that had grown over the years. And the irritating thing was, that Alfie couldn’t even blame Tommy for any of it. So, he blamed it on his broken body, blamed all his physical shortcomings on his old bones that had gradually broken down and slowly but surely seemed to give up. </p><p>Therefore, it was no wonder, that his eyes were filled with tears when he looked up.<br/>
As soon as their eyes met, Alfie threatened to get lost in the deep blue of Tommy's eyes. He stared through them as if he was diving down an ice-cold mountain lake. Tommy noticed that Alfie was not quite with him, that he was overwhelmed with concern and something that Tommy could not quite name yet. But Tommy knew that Alfie was worried and ultimately just wanted to protect him. As irrational as the worry was, Tommy hadn't been able to make fun of it for a long time now. On the contrary, he appreciated - loved - that someone cared for him.</p><p>“Okay, listen, how about you find out who I should see in regards of this, and next time we drive up to London, I get my lungs or whatever you want, checked, hm?”</p><p>And when he saw how Alfie’s attention was all back to him, a happy smile conquering all of the wrinkled face, Tommy couldn’t help but reach up to cup Alfies’s cheek with his hand. When he felt the weight of Alfie happily leaning into the touch, it again broke his heart; out of guilt for what he had done to Alfie and the certainty that they probably wouldn't have much time left. </p><p>“Now c’mon, I’m getting cold. Why don’t we finish that article about these new cars, huh?”</p><p>And while Alfie couldn’t have cared less to hear anything about the new Austin Healey 100 4, the prospect of being read to by this wonderful man by his side, while they’d be cuddled up on their huge sofa, Errol warming their outstretched legs, filled him with a warm feeling of bliss. </p><p>-∙-</p><p>Three weeks later, Alfie had an appointment with his ophthalmologist. Both knew very well that, without Tommy’s promise to use the wait time to visit a pulmonologist himself, Alfie wouldn’t have gone there at all. As Alfie put it “if that guy, Tom, isn’t fucking Jesus, he can’t do anything for my sight anyway.” </p><p>But they drove up to London, and Alfie got a new magnifying glass that he used to read Tommy’s medical report himself when Tommy handed it to him wordlessly once they arrived home again.<br/>
. Given that Tommy Shelby was the man that he was, Alfie couldn’t help but doubt that the doctor had examined Tommy at all. However, he pushed aside those doubts, and his heart and mind were satisfied when he read that everything was just fine with his lover’s lungs.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for joining me on this ride so far.<br/>Since RL can give us a hard time, and sadly leave us with not that much time for the fun things in live, I am looking for a new beta reader for the next chapters.<br/>The basic structure of the next chapter already stands and the whole fic is planned out.<br/>Please just leave a comment in case you'd be interested. I like to work with word but we could also use mail or dropbox or OneDrive.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for joining me on their first part of their journey that will span, well a life time.<br/>I just needed them to be together, forever.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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